


Acta Non Verba

by Fyre



Category: Rome (TV 2005)
Genre: Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 15:52:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13126914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fyre/pseuds/Fyre
Summary: Sometimes actions speak louder than words.





	Acta Non Verba

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anndy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anndy/gifts).



It was pissing down again. Warm, true enough, but still as wet as Libera’s cunny.

Pullo tore another piece off his loaf, dipping it in the bowl of oil. The inn they’d found was a bit of Rome stuck in the Gaul landscape: bread and oil and even a bath house for them that could afford it. Not that they could afford it, but it had a roof and the keeper liked a respectable man and his wife over stragglers from the legions.

It was a good thing, the rain. Gave them more of a reason to stay another day, even if it was only so Eirene would take the rest he was offering her. Last thing he wanted was for her to walk her feet bloody. She’d never marched with the legions, not like he had. He’d forgotten until he found her asleep and saw her feet all swollen and red.

Never complained that one. Not that she was meek as a lamb. Ha! Far from. Stubborn as goat, she was. All about her pride. When he saw her limping, she stuck out her chin and glared at him and told him to keep his eyes on the road. 

He licked the oil and meat juices off his fingers, then added some more stew to his bowl from the common pot. Some looked at him like they wanted to complain, but he smiled at them and let his dagger knock against the table. They looked away fast enough, not a word spoken.

“For the wife,” he called over, when the innkeeper looked like he might step in.

She was still asleep, curled up like a kitten on the sack of straw that they’d shared the night before. She didn’t even stir when he sat back down by her. He reached out to brush her hair back from her face and smiled when she muttered something in her native tongue. Like as not a curse for waking her. Not many liked to be wakened, even by the ones they liked.

“None of that,” he said, tapping the end of her nose. “When I braved our innkeeper and got you food and everything?”

Her eyes fluttered open and she squinted at him, then smiled sleepily and said something in that same language.

“Not all of us speak your tongue, my dove,” he reminded her with a wry smile. “Sounded better than…” He frowned, then repeated the words she’d said when he’d woken her.

Eirene started laughing and knocked her knee against his hip. “Yes,” she agreed. “Better than that.” She pushed herself to sit up, looking expectantly at the plate. “You brought food?”

“Something warm,” he agreed, setting the bowl in her lap. She snatched up the bread at once and he chuckled. For a small woman, she ate readily. It pleased him to see it, no longer afraid of taking food from in front of him. “What did I say, then?”

She looked up at him. “What did you say?”

He tried repeating the words again. “That. Did you just curse my cock off?”

A pink flush spread across her cheeks and she ducked her head over the bowl, shaking with laughter. “I like your cock.”

He leaned in closer to her and kissed her cheek. “I know that,” he said, smiling. “So my cock’s safe?”

She raised her eyes to his and smiled back at him. “As long as you bring food, yes.” She touched his cheek, then his lip with her sauce-covered fingers. “You say…” She frowned, thinking, “May your donkey fuck you in the ass.”

Pullo burst out laughing. “All that for waking you up?” He shook his head, grinning. “Gods help me if I ever make you angry.”

“Then you must not ever make me angry,” she said with a gleam in her eye that he liked too much. She leaned forward and kissed him. 

He didn’t know which of them put the plate aside, but when they were done and she was wrapped up in his arms, her body tucked against his, his cock still in her cunny, he fetched her up a piece of the oil-soaked bread. She nibbled it from his fingers, her head resting on his other arm, soft and pink and warm.

“To keep me strong?” she asked, mischief in her eyes.

He laughed, moving his hips against hers again. “To get you ready to go again.”

She swatted at his side. “We have a long way to go.”

“Not today.” He held up a finger towards the roof. The rain was still beating down like a drum. “We can’t go far when it’s like this. We’ll stay here another day. It’ll do both of us good.”

“Both of us?” she repeated and he knew she could see right through him.

“Both of us,” he said, trying his best to look innocent. “Bit of rest. Some time to ourselves.” He patted his hand against the bed. “Sleep.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “My feet are not so bad. I can walk more.”

He widened his eyes. “Who said anything about your feet? Maybe I wanted to stop for a day of fucking?”

“You are a bad liar.”

He spread his hand on her back, holding her close to him. “Right enough,” he said with a crooked smile. “I’m going to keep you off your feet all day, even if I have to get your legs in the air to make it so.”

Her lips brushed his as she murmured what she had said again, the better thing.

There was warmth in her eyes and he couldn’t help himself. “Was that one about my cock?”

She kissed him again. “My guardian bear.”

“Hey now!”

She tapped his chin again, smiling. “There. My bear.”

All told, not a bad thing to be compared to. Bears were strong and fierce and liked a good meal. “The bear and the dove, eh?” he said, running his hand up and down her back. “How do you say that in your language?”

She stroked his cheek. “Adela.”

“Adela? That means dove, does it?” She shook her head. Pullo frowned, bewildered. “Then what is it?”

The pink was back, spreading across her cheeks. “It is my name.”

Pullo stared at her. “Adela,” he repeated, then smiled. “My beautiful Adela.”

When she smiled, her face lit up like a candle flame.


End file.
